Filthy ladies

I went out last night with a group of friends. They are former workmates of mine, and when I worked, we'd go out every Wednesday to the Backbencher, and every month for food. They're a very cool gang, and can always to be relied on to out drink me. Last night was no exception. The exceptional factor was all the talk about men, and more specifically men's appendages.

We started the evening at Liquidate, which is near their work. I finally got to try South Gin, and very nice it was too. The place was empty by about 7, so I'm guessing it isn't the hottest spot in town, but it was pretty great for a rowdy group like us.

We moved on to Boulot at about 8. There weren't any tables available so we squeezed ourselves into the corner and admired the hot staff. There was much discussion of the merits of Gabe vs Enzo. I'm a married woman, so obviously didn't notice (GO ENZO!).

I drank Plymouth gin there. It was good. Lots of gin didn't seem to add up to a big hangover, so perhaps I've uncovered the secret to going out.

Eventually we scored a table. My lamb was bloody delicious, although lacking salt, but since I'm such a healthy thing I coped.

We had to head home to relieve the babysitter, so didn't get to watch all the Seven's fans being silly buggers. I did see quite a lot of girls in tutus pashing boys in dungarees on the way to the car, and some pretty choice spewing in the New World carpark. It was pissing it down, so I don't think I would've missed too much.